


What a Dad

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, it's painfully self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:14:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going to Amelie's parent-teacher conferences always gave Dallon anxiety; however, he thought he just might be able to handle it to see that smile again. By which he meant Amelie's smile, of course. Definitely not the wide, welcoming grin of his daughter's music teacher. No, that would be silly . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Dal, please - "

"Couldn't you just ask Spencer to? Amelie wouldn't mind, she loves him."

"I know she does, Dal, but this is sort of a Mom or Dad kind of thing. And Mom is busy. Why can't you just go to your own kid's parent-teacher conference? Is there something more important you have to do?"

Dallon sighed into the receiver. "You know that's not it, Breezy. Of course I want to go for Amelie, but her teachers think I'm some kind of demon or something."

"No, they don't . . . "

Dallon just waited.

The line crackled, then, "Okay, fine, they do. But not because of anything you've done. They're elementary school teachers, Dal, I'm sure they've all seen more than their fair share of tears over divorced dads."

There was some rustling through the line, as if Breezy had put the phone down. Faintly, Dallon heard a little voice - "Oh! Is that Daddy? Can I say hi?"

Dallon heard, "Yeah, of course, Amelie - but wait, I - "

"Hi, Daddy!"

Dallon smiled. "Hi, Amelie. How's your weekend going with Mom?"

Amelie giggled. "Awesome! We baked a pie . . . and Sarah and I played with the doggies, and we took them to the park!"

Dallon gasped dramatically, and laughed as he said, "Oh, did you? Just like you did last week?"

Breezy's girlfriend Sarah had two little dogs, and they probably liked Amelie more than they did anyone else in the world, from what Dallon could tell. Not that he could blame them, of course. His daughter just had that effect. On people and dogs.

She'd probably gotten it from her mother, Dallon thought. Breezy was a lovely person, even if it took her far to long to realize which gender she preferred romantically. She and Dallon were still best friends, now just best friends that happen to have the same children. And Breezy and Amelie both seemed to have that favoritism effect on Sarah O. She absolutely loved both girls, and they loved her, and really, that was all Dallon wanted for Breezy.

Even if it meant his daughter never, ever shut up about her mom's girlfriend's dogs.

"Hey Daddy?" Amelie said, after finally finishing the story of her newest adventures with the dogs.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

There was a short pause as Amelie walked into another room so her mom couldn't hear. "Do you think . . . you could maybe come to my school's parent night?  
'Cause Mom said she would last month, but I think she's gotta go to some work dinner thing with Sarah - " Amelie was whispering now, even though Dallon already knew, " - she didn't tell me that, I just heard . . . and I think she's really supposed to go . . . "

"I know, honey, she's told me about it." Dallon said. "I was thinking I could ask Uncle Spencer to take you, yeah?"

Amelie sighed. "But Dad, it's a parent night, you know. I love Uncle Spencer, but I want you to come."

Dallon couldn't help it; he smiled. What parent didn't want to hear that?

"You know what, Amelie? You're right. Don't worry, honey. I'll take you to parent night, okay?" Judgemental teachers be damned.

Amelie grinned. "Yay! Thanks, Daddy!"

"Not a problem, sweet girl. Now, can I talk to your mom again before I go?"

"Oh, yeah," Amelie ran the phone back to Breezy, who was sat on the couch with Sarah in her lap.

"So, when do I pick her up for the conference?" Dallon asked her.

Breezy laughed. "She wore you down, huh?" 

"Of course she did. That was your plan all along, wasn't it?" He said with a smile.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Weekes." She remained serious for about eight seconds before giggling.

Then Sarah took the phone. "Honestly, Dallon, thank you. I have to go to this banquet, I don't even know what my boss would do if I missed another company event. But I just hate going to those things alone . . . "

"It's no problem, really. She's my kid. I'd go to all of her school functions if they didn't give me so much anxiety."

"I understand. But I honestly don't see how they could hate you that much - I don't even hate you, and you're my girlfriend's ex-husband."

"Wow, thanks, Sarah."

"And my friend!" Sarah amended quickly. 

"Right," Dallon laughed, then they all said their goodbyes.

As soon as Dallon hung up, Breezy and Sarah both gave Amelie high fives.  
//

Amelie was having a great day. Her mom had made her pancakes this morning, and Sarah had slipped chocolate chips in for her when her mom wasn't looking. 

Then she hadn't had to go to math class because of an assembly, and her science class got to take notes on an older class's experiment. 

Her other classes had been boring, but she got to play tag at recess, and then, finally, got to go to music class. 

"Alright, class!" Mr. Urie said with a smile. "How would you guys like to choose our music today?"

All of the kids in Amelie's class immediately piped up with excited chatter about what song they thought they should play.

Mr. Urie laughed good-naturedly. "Okay, okay, quiet down!" And after a moment, the chattering did die down. "Good. Now, I know you all want to pick a song, but we'll never get it done that way, right?"

Half the kids rolled their eyes while the other mumbled, "Right, Mr. Urie."

"So," he said, now holding a cup of colored tongue depressers, "we'll let . . ." he shuffled the sticks around while all the kids watched, pulling only one and reading off, " . . . Amelie Weekes decide our song today!"

Amelie giggled in delight - she hardly ever got picked. 

"Amelie," Mr. Urie asked, "what would you like to play today?"

Amelie thought about some of the songs her dad sang to her. "Ummm . . . Oh! I know!" She exclaimed. "Could we play Blackbird, Mr. Urie?"

Mr. Urie grinned brightly - he could always tell which kids had parents who taught them about music. "Hey, I love that one. Of course! And I suppose you'd like to play the ukulele, yes?" Amelie always chose it - and her teacher secretly thought she was the best player in her class.

Mr. Urie took down one of the class ukuleles, and as soon as it was in her hands, Amelie was smiling wider. 

He then went about the class, asking which students wanted to use the percussion instruments, which wanted to sing, et cetera, and finally deciding to put slides of the lyrics on the projector. Each kid's eyes lit up when given a musical task - their teacher always seemed to know what each was comfortable with, and, more importantly, made them happy. 

"So, class - do you all know how this song goes?"

A few kids shook their heads, so Mr. Urie played the song aloud. By the time it was over, most students were singing along, and all of them seemed happy. 

"Alright, everybody - now it's our turn," Mr. Urie said it like a challenge, and a few boys pumped their fists and said, "Yeah!"

"Amelie? Would you like to start us off?"

Amelie made a thumbs-up and then positioned her fingers over the ukulele. She fumbled her fingers on a few of the first chords, but soon she was easily playing the song's intro, with help from the little percussion section.

When the first group of kids started to sing, Amelie quietly joined them.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night . . ." she whispered, focusing on the cords.

Halfway through the song, between singing parts, another little girl toward the back said, "C'mon, Mr. Urie, sing with us," and the others around her agreed. 

He quietly protested at first - shaking his head, laughing a little - but finally did join them for one chorus, after that content to listen to how well his students were doing. 

Amelie thought, vaguely, that his voice would sound very good with her dad's. 

When his class finished playing, Mr. Urie clapped for them, smiling so big his face could've cramped. He wouldn't have admitted it, but there may have been tears in his eyes.

"Kids, that was wonderful!" He exclaimed. "I can tell you've all been practicing. I'm very proud of you all,"

They smiled at that - of course they wanted to make their favorite teacher proud.

"Would you guys like to play this song for parent night tonight? I know it's not the plan, but I'd just love for your families to hear what I just heard."

After a vote and a little bit of arguing, they all agreed on the idea. Then Mr. Urie released them to practice on their own for the rest of class, helping out his students and listening closely as he went around the room.

"Hey, good job, Amelie - curl up your fingers a little more for that cord. Okay, yeah. There you go. Hey, did you find out if your mom can come tonight?" Amelie had entrusted Mr. Urie with the issue of Sarah's work banquet.

Amelie sighed, setting the ukulele in her lap. "No, she can't go." Then she suddenly brightened. "But my daddy's coming instead!" she remembered.

"Oh?" Mr. Urie said cautiously. "I don't think I've ever met your dad, have I?"

"No. You'll like him though. He loves music, too. He plays the guitar . . . Not the guitar guitar, the one with four strings, like a big ukulele."

Mr. Urie smiled at her. "You mean the bass guitar?"

"Yeah! That's right. He's really good, too."

"Well, I'll be glad to meet him," he told her. Truthfully, he was a bit worried - he hadn't heard much about Amelie's dad, as he didn't go to school events - but he supposed if Breezy and Sarah trusted him, he couldn't be so bad.


	2. So Totally Not Cute At All

In the end, Amelie's parents had decided it would be easiest if Dallon just picked her up from school to take her to the conference that evening, so Dallon was waiting in the carpool lane for her when she and her classmates were released from school. 

He was given a few pointed looks from the various adults, of course, and he was sure the teacher who pointed Amelie in the direction of her father's car was full-on glaring at him, but he tried not to care. 

"So, how was school, kid?" Dallon asked.

"It was school," she said, rolling her eyes. "But we didn't have to go to math, and what we did in music class was pretty awesome." 

Dallon grinned; he so loved how much his daughter loved music. "And what was that?"

Amelie grinned. "Can't tell you! It's a secret!"

"Aww, come on," Dallon feigned exhaustion, then laughed. "You're killin' me, kid. You suuure you can't tell me?" He said, drawing out the long "U" sound, and leaning to poke her in the ribs, eyes still on the road.

She giggled, pushing him away. "Nope! You'll have to see tonight!"

"Oh, are we getting a performance?" He asked interestedly.

"Well, yeah," Amelie said, like it was obvious. "It's music class. It's not like we can show you projects, you have to hear them."

Dallon grinned. "Okay, smarty. I can't wait to listen, then."

They pulled up into the driveway, and Amelie ran into the house. Dallon locked the car, then followed shortly after.

//

She was sat down at the kitchen table, equipped with a textbook, a pencil, and a withering scowl. Or, at least, as withering of a scowl as a third-grader could have. 

"You figuring it all out, Amelie?" Dallon asked her seriously, because if looks could kill, that English textbook might spontaneously combust.

"It's just so dumb!" She burst out, then sighed. "Why do I have to copy down all these words that I already know how to spell?" 

"Well, because how's your teacher going to know you can spell them unless she sees that you did?"

Amelie huffed. "She could give me the spelling test. I could pass it right at the beginning of the week."

"But is that fair to the kids that wouldn't know how to spell those words at the beginning of the week?"

She sighed exaggeratedly, let out a defeated, "No," and turned back to her paper. 

Dallon smiled at her. "I'll tell you what. You can actually take a break from your spelling, because it's about time to go to the conference."

"Oh! Yay! I almost forgot . . . "  
   
//

Amelie's conferences, so far, were going exactly the way Dallon thought they would go. As they went from class to class, all of her teachers eyed him warily. Dallon did his best to ignore this and focus on what they told him.

She struggled at math, but she wasn't terrible ("Yes, I am! I suck at math!"). She liked science class, but not formulas ("Ew, more math"). She did well in social studies, even if she didn't always find it interesting ("So some kings died. Why do I care?"), and she loved English, because the class often just got to read. All the teachers seemed to like her, even if her abundance of energy proved "challenging" in the classroom. 

"Okay, come on, Daddy! It's time for the music class conference!" She said, eyes bright smile.

Dallon chuckled. "Well, you seem excited," he replied. 

Amelie grinned. "I am! You're gonna like Mr. Urie, Dad. He's my favorite teacher!"

Dallon just smiled back at her. He'd heard a little about Mr. Urie before, as Amelie always talked about how much she loved music class.

American giggled and dragged her dad by the hand down the hall to the music room.

"There she is!" Mr. Urie chirped as soon as Amelie and Dallon pushed the door open. "There's our ukulele girl. Now we can get this show going!" Amelie immediately walked over to Mr. Urie, who ruffled her hair and got down a ukulele for her.

As she walked over to sit with the other kids, Mr. Urie started, "So, parents and guardians, welcome to third grade music class!" He smiled widely at them.

Dallon automatically smiled back; this man had an absolutely beautiful smile - his eyes even seemed to sparkle. 

Wait, what?

He shook his head a little, still smiling, to clear out the thought, when the teacher caught his gaze. He nodded at him, his sparkling eyes flashed, and Dallon swore that his smile got a little wider.

Turning his attention back to all the parents, Mr. Urie continued, "Your students, you'll be happy to know, are all excellent and dedicated musicians, who practice and practice, and play or sing their hearts out." That beautiful smile was back, having grown as he spoke. You could probably see the pride in his eyes as he looked over at his students. 

"And to prove to you just how talented they are, they'd like to perform a song to you - a song they just learned today, picked out by Miss Amelie Weekes, there, the ukulele girl," and he gestured to Amelie, who smiled and waved. 

"I'll just say one more thing, and then I'll let them get started - these might be the most talented kids I've ever taught."

With that, he turned and nodded to Amelie, who nodded back, then looked down at her fingers on the neck of the ukulele. 

She started out the song, the others followed in time, the music filling the room, and the parents smiling as their children came in and they recognized the song. Dallon, of course, was beaming at his daughter - he had sung her to sleep with this song before, but in his opinion, she performed it much better.

At the same lull as before, the same girl, and a few others, this time, said, "Sing along, Mr. Urie!" And this time, he decided to join without much hesitation. 

He did, so Dallon thought, have a beautiful voice. However, he seemed withdrawn, nervous - he probably only ever sang for his students. 

Dallon felt a pang of sympathy, and before he'd even realized he was doing it, he was singing along, harmonizing with him. Mr. Urie turned around to face him, a confused expressed melting into a thankful one as he understood.

Amelie had been right, she thought to herself. Their voices just fit together. 

When Mr. Urie decided to stop so he could just listen to the kids, he turned to Dallon again and flourished a hand at him to signal a cut-off, with a sweet, sheepish smile, his eyes still twinkling his thanks. Dallon requited with a shy grin as they finished singing. It stayed on his face as Mr. Urie turned back to the kids. 

The light applause brought huge smiles to the students' faces; the adults gave the class a well-deserved standing ovation. A few of them might have had watery eyes.

"Amazing, class. Absolutely, totally awesome. What did I tell you?" The teacher praised, pride evident in his voice. 

The kids scattered around back to their families; Dallon took Amelie in his arms as soon as she came up to him, exclaiming, "That was fantastic, kiddo! You're so good. So, so good."

"Thanks, Dad," she said with an eyeroll.

"So," came a voice from behind him. "I don't believe we've met before, have we?

Dallon turned to greet who he could already tell was Amelie's teacher.

"Ah, no, we haven't. Unfortunately," he started happily, and Mr. Urie blushed slightly. Dallon blinked in surprise, then felt his cheeks redden as well. He shook his head. Why had he said that? "Uh, um, so - anyway. Hi. Dallon Weekes. Amelie's dad. Nice to meet you," he finished awkwardly, and held out a hand. 

He shook it, looking up at him with a little smile that pulled slightly to the right. "Hey, Dallon. I'm Brendon, it's good to meet you, too. I did want to talk to you about Amelie."

Dallon looked to his side for the girl in question, but she'd already scampered off to talk to some friends. 

"I assumed I'd be talking to Breezy, but - "

"But I'm here instead," he finished, sounding the slightest bit irritated. 

Brendon must've caught on to it, though, because he quickly replied, "No, no, I didn't mean it like that. Just - you know, I see her and Sarah more often, and - "

"Yeah, I know, I get it," he sighed, with a thin, apologetic smile. "I don't show up a lot. I wish I could, but I don't." He paused, not really wanting to explain his anxiety or to lie. He decided to just leave it at that.  
"You can still tell me stuff, though, I am her dad, and I do openly communicate with her mom. What was it you wanted to talk about?" Dallon asked.

"Of course, alright, it was just - Amelie," Brendon paused, looking over to smile at the girl. 

He turned his attention back to Dallon, continuing, "She's one of the most talented students I've ever had. It's like she was born to play the ukulele."

Dallon chuckled lightly. "She is pretty amazing, isn't she? I've been thinking about getting her her own ukulele, so she doesn't have to check out the school ones to practice," He was smiling as whispered this last sentence, as though his daughter might be able to hear it from across the room. Which was kind of adorable, Brendon thought. 

Wait. No, it wasn't. It was just - just sweet, that's all.

Either way, he was glad to hear it. "Would you really? Oh, that'd be great! Because, you see, I was thinking of having my student teacher - he's working with older kids, that's why he's not here - but yeah, having him give Amelie private ukulele lessons after school, if she'd be interested - "

Dallon was bouncing on his toes, cutting in, "Of course she would be! Oh, she'd just love that!" He was smiling like crazy at just the thought of how his little girl's eyes would light up. "I'll talk to Breezy about it, definitely, about how much does he charge, do you think?"

Brendon's brow furrowed, like he didn't understand, then - "Oh! No, no, nothing,  Mr. Joseph - I mean Tyler, damn, I'm still in teacher mode," he chuckled. "He's just trying to find some talented students, to try and put together a jazz band for the school, and I told him about our ukulele girl," he said, and blushed again when Dallon grinned at his nickname for her. "Anyway, he just wants to see what she's got. No big deal, just a sort of informal thing." He smiled a little at how excited Dallon got for his kid.

Dallon visibly relaxed, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to make it less noticeable. He had enough money, it's not like he was barely scraping by, but things could get a little strained sometimes. His lips turned up at one corner cutely as he said, "Okay, that sounds great. Did you want to tell her about it, or - ?"

Dallon was cut off as Amelie came and grabbed his hand, proceeding to show him around the room and introduce him to her friends. He went about the room, meeting with the now slightly-less-judgemental parents (probably because of the singing) and their kids, looking at the little xylophones and marimbas, and basically just following wherever Amelie dragged him for the next eight minutes, when most of the families had trickled out the door. 

While Amelie was saying goodbye to one more friend, and just as Dallon was going to tell her it was about time to leave, Brendon grabbed his arm.

He was blushing pretty hard, pink across the cheeks like a sunburn. It looked really cute on him, actually. 

Shit. He really needed to stop that.

Amelie's teacher, with the totally-not-at-all-absolutely-adorable pink blush staining his cheeks, looked up at Dallon, saying softly, "H-hey. I just, um. I wanted to - to thank you before you left. You know, for singing with me." He scratched the back of his neck nervously and Dallon was weirdly over-aware of the fact that Brendon's hand was no longer on his arm as he continued, "I - well, I get really nervous singing to anyone other than the kids. I know it's kind of dumb, but I just get like that. It's nothing - but anyway, thank you for singing with me. Us," he corrected, gesturing to where his little choir had previously been sitting. "It - It's a little silly, but you really helped, for some reason," he said with an embarrassed little smile, and blushed a little darker, almost whispering, "You have a really pretty voice, by the way," and oh my god, nope, no, that was certainly not the cutest thing Dallon had ever seen in his life. Definitely not.

Dallon smiled, just politely, not flirtatiously at all, and for sure not blushing a little himself as he replied, "Thanks, but really, it was an honor to sing with you. You have the most beautiful voice I've ever heard in my life," he finished, and Brendon went nearly scarlet, a shy grin on his face.

And just then, Amelie bounded up and announced she was ready to go. 

Brendon smiled down at her, somehow immediately Mr. Urie once again, saying, "Okay, goodbye, Amelie. Goodnight, I'll see you in class tomorrow."

She grinned her huge grin, saying, "Bye, Mr. Urie!" and an added, whispered, "Come on, Dad, let's go."

Brendon giggled lightly (not cute, uh-uh) and looked back up, saying "'Night, Dallon. Thanks again for coming, and - and everything."

Dallon did not blush at that, because that would be weird, and wasn't at all trying to sound cute when he said, "Okay, bubye, Brendon! See you later, maybe. I hope."

Brendon turned pink again just as Dallon thought, 'Oh, god, did l say that out loud?' and yeah. He definitely had, but it was okay because Amelie was taking the opportunity to lead (more like push) him out the door. 

Brendon watched them go, but seemed to realize something just as the two were at the door.

"Dallon!" And he stopped, turned around at his name.

"You'll tell Breezy and Sarah about the - um - thing?"

And Dallon just rolled his eyes and nodded.

He grinned and clasped his hands together in front of him and geez, who the hell did Dallon think he was kidding, his daughter's music teacher was so goddamn adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- wowie this was so fun to write  
> \- i always end up writing 3rd person limited instead of omniscient whyy  
> \- i like boys who rap and play ukelele B)  
> \- amelie is kind of a little shit but she's a cute little shit  
> \- are u annoyed w me yet lmao i write so slow


	3. The Instrument Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, Dallon Weekes is an adorable but oblivious idiot.

Dallon wanted to see him again. 

It was all he could think about. He was all he could think about. Brendon Urie. He even liked the way the name tasted on his tongue. 

And it was incredibly stupid, of course, he shouldn't be thinking anything about how any part of Brendon tasted on his tongue and shit, now he was thinking about that, too. 

He hardly even knew the man, he might have someone, might be married... But for whatever reason, he just couldn't get him off his mind.

He told Breezy and Sarah about the ukulele lessons with Mr. Joseph, and they both agreed that it was an awesome idea, oh my gosh, that would make her so happy and when could she start? 

And so that was how, in secret, Dallon bought Amelie a little blue ukulele, that stayed hidden in his car for a week, before Mr. Urie called him to confirm the time for Amelie's lessons and Dallon did his best not to repeat himself or stutter or otherwise embarrass himself. 

(Brendon, for his part, had been incredibly nervous about calling Dallon, for whatever reason. Or, actually, for a rather specific reason that Brendon was choosing to ignore. Nevertheless, if he misspoke a few times and giggled a bit too much during this phone call, Dallon was too clueless to wonder why.)

//

"Okay, so what time do we take her to her lesson, today?" Sarah asked.

"Uhm, well..." Dallon shifted the phone to his other hand, then said "I mean, I was thinking I could just take her."

"Why? Breezy's picking her up anyway, right? She's gonna be over at our house."

"W-well, uh, just because... because I have her ukulele, still, and I wanted to surprise her with it..."

Sarah rolled her eyes in annoyance at her friend. "Dal, couldn't you just have given it to her before she left for school? Oh, hold on..." Dallon heard the clattering sound of the landline receiver being set down, and the faint sounds of a conversation between Breezy and Sarah. 

He couldn't have known this, of course, but what Breezy was doing was filling Sarah in on the fact of how her daughter's cute, single, bisexual music teacher had caught the attention of her cute, single, bisexual ex-husband. 

He couldn't know that, because he of course couldn't hear that clearly, but he still got a bit nervous when he heard what must've been giggling, because the giggles of two women with the wit of Sarah and Breezy's is something everyone should fear.

When Sarah picked the phone back up, there was a clear smirk in her voice. "Alright, you can just pick Amelie up from school today and take her back for the lesson; you're right, it'll be a good surprise for her." 

Dallon smiled in spite of himself. "Okay, thank you guys. I just really wanted to do this for her..."

"Yeah, we know, it's no problem. Oh, and Dallon?"

"Yeah?"

"He's single." Sarah giggled as she hang up, as Dallon quickly went totally red. Fuck, they knew everything. 

//

"Hey, Amelie?" Dallon said levelly, a few minutes after they got home.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"There's something I wanted to show you..."

Amelie just looked at him expectantly. 

He rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright," and led her to the kitchen, where her ukulele was laid atop its case on the table. "Go look at that, over there," and she did.

She went up, first seeing the beautiful instrument, running her fingers over the strings in awe; second, she saw the little white script embroidered into the case: "Property of Amelie Weekes." 

"Oh my god..." she whispered. She turned back to face her dad, a slightly disbelieving smile across her face, and just hugged him, saying, "Oh my god, really? I-is it mine, really?"

He laughed and rubbed her back. "Of course, doll. What other Amelie Weekes would I give it to?" He said softly. 

She pulled away, looking so happy she could cry, and just said, "Thank you, daddy, I love you."

"I love you, too, babygirl. Now put it in its case to take with you, we're going back to school for a sec."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

//

"Lessons? Why? I already know how to play..."

Dallon rolled his eyes and smiled. "Not to learn how, just to get better. They think you're amazing, they want you for the jazz band, apparently."

Amelie grinned. "What? Mr. Joseph's jazz band? I thought that was just for the older kids!"

"Guess you're just that great, kiddo."

"Awesome! Okay, yeah, this is gonna be cool." She smiled and knocked on the door to the music room, stopping the piano music that had been coming from inside. 

The door was quickly unlocked and opened, revealing a cheery Mr. Urie, along with a kind-looking young man sitting at the piano that Dallon could only assume was Mr. Joseph. 

He wasn't really paying that much attention, however, considering Brendon Urie was grinning at him. He smiled back shyly, hoping he wasn't blushing. 

(He totally was. And Brendon totally saw it. And, fuck, why did Dallon have to be so cute?)

"Dallon, Amelie, hi! Come right in; Amelie, go sit down with Mr. Joseph, alright?" 

He smiled and waved from the piano bench, and Amelie skipped over and gave him a hug. He laughed good-naturedly and patted her back, then they sat back down, talking as he turned her instrument for her.

Brendon smiled at them, then turned back to Dallon, still standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Would you like to stay? I'd love to have someone to talk to while I sort sheet music," Brendon said, then blushed, hoping that didn't sound too flirty.

It didn't, but it made Dallon smile a little bit more. "Why not? I haven't got much else to do for the next hour."

Brendon's pretty eyes sparkled at that, and he just said, "Okay, come with me."

And Dallon was led into a hellish backroom filled with instruments in cases, dust, instruments out of cases, and oh my sweet everloving god that was a lot of sheet music. "How the hell are you going to get through all of this?" He asked incredulously.

Brendon giggled, actually giggled, which was so goddamn adorable Dallon felt personally victimized, and said, "I don't know. I don't think I will, I might die. Tell my parents I love them."

Dallon chuckled and sat down beside him. "Someone's a drama queen. What is this hell-room, anyway?"

Brendon grinned widely at that. "This," he gestured all around him, "is known as the instrument room. Roughly a little more than half the size of the main music room, solid soundproofing, and is generally seen as either a wasteland or a wonderland. I prefer the latter."

Dallon grinned back - he couldn't help it, it was contagious - and asked, "How is this musty old room any kind of wonderland?"

Brendon pursed his lips, then grinned and came around behind Dallon and reached around him to put his hands over his eyes.

"Okay. Dallon, I need you to see this room from my perspective. Picture a room full of instruments that students'll pick up and try to play, failing miserably, but still loving it. Picture a room with quite a few vintage, well-worn - oh screw it - quite a few irrevocably fucked up instruments you can use to teach basic repairs. A room with a piano in the corner that's only a little out of tune, really, you can still tap out Chopsticks or fucking Heart and Soul. A place for kids who get too nervous during auditions to come and hide, feeling free to talk to me because no one can hear... And there's so much more." He takes his hands away from Dallon's eyes, and says, "Now, what do you see?"

Dallon opened his eyes and looked around the room again. He grinned. 

"Hah. A wonderland."

Brendon smiled back at him. "See?"

"I can tell why my daughter likes you."

Brendon laughed. "I take that as a compliment, knowing Amelie."

"And so you should," he responded seriously. "Now, what am I supposed to do with all this?"

"Bass clef in this pile, treble in this one, and try to keep them organized by instrument or key." Brendon shifted to sit on his knees in front of Dallon, the massive stacks of paper between them, returning to his original task.

After a second, Dallon joins him, smiling and humming as he sorted through the sheets. He and Brendon talked and laughed and even sang a little, samples from sheets of vocal music. Dallon, of course, had to once again pretend like Brendon's voice didn't absolutely melt him, and hide his blush every time they so much as brushed hands. God, he was like a gay little schoolboy...

The hour passed in what seemed like seconds to the two men, happily talking until there was a knock on the door to the small room.

Brendon got up and opened it, only a little surprised to be greeted by the bright, wide smile of a one Joshua Dun.

"Oh, hey, Josh, what's up?" Brendon smiled. 

"Well, nothing much, I'm just here to pick up a cute ukulele player, but there seems to be two of those out there..." Josh giggled at his own joke.

Dallon, who at that point was already standing at Brendon's side, smiled back with a bit of surprise. "Oh! Has it been an hour already? Hi, I'm Dallon Weekes, by the way." 

Josh took Dallon's outstretched hand, firmly shaking it in his own. "Hey, Amelie's dad, I guess? Josh Dun, I'm Tyler Joseph's boyfriend." His eyes shined a little brighter even as the name passed his lips, in a way that Dallon would've known even if he hadn't been told. "And yeah, a whole hour. Time flies when you're sorting through every sheet of music ever published, I suppose," he said, looking over at the still pretty impressively sized pile of music. 

Brendon rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, it's not that bad." He laughed as they walked out of the room, to the sound of a sweet, happy ukulele duet.

Both players looked up and smiled widely at the three men who came to listen as their song tapered to its end, then Amelie bounded up and gave her dad a quick hug before going to pack up her instrument. 

Mr. Joseph followed shortly after, smiling and planting a quick kiss on Josh's lips before turning to face Dallon, an arm still around his boyfriend's waist.

"Your daughter is an absolutely amazing ukulele player. I definitely made the right choice," he said assuredly.

Dallon and Brendon both nodded. "Of course you did, I suggested it," Brendon grinned at him. Tyler scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

"Anyway," he said, addressing Dallon and pointedly ignoring Brendon, "Do you want to make this a regular thing? Amelie would want to, so if you can take her -"

"Oh, of course I can!" He responded, maybe a bit too quickly. He blushed, just barely noticeable, and barreled on, "I mean, just because, I'll be around anyway, you know, like, so it wouldn't be a big deal..." He let himself trail off, feeling a little dumb.

No one else seemed to notice, though, or were otherwise very polite if they did. Brendon just nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. And we'd love to have her. Plus you, of course... um, I mean -" He chewed his lip nervously, fighting to keep away the red blush creeping up his neck, and finished, seeming quite flustered.

"No, yeah, I probably will stay most of the time - if that's okay?"

"Of course! It makes things a lot easier, I guess..."

"And I could keep helping you out, with the sheet music and stuff..."

This continued on, as awkward as you please, for at least two solid minutes. Everyone else just looked on as they babbled. Josh sent Tyler a question with his eyes, and Tyler just smirked and nodded. Amelie, of course, ended up saving her dad from his own clumsiness, as she seemed to be getting so good at doing. Whether or not she was aware of this, or just easily bored, however, remained to be seen.

As the Weekeses finally left, Brendon quickly disappeared back into the instrument room. 

"Does your boss actually have a crush on someone? That is what I just saw, right?" Josh asked incredulously. 

Tyler rolled his eyes. "He's not my boss, he's my co-teacher, and yeah, clearly. He was getting all tense and nervous just before they showed up, I guess now I know why."

"That's really cute," Josh giggled, kissing Tyler's jaw.

Tyler was inclined to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- i'm sorry this took so long!!! ive had so little motivation lmao   
> \- but i like writing this so don't worry   
> \- there's joshler because I do what I want  
> \- im sorry if this is lame  
> \- cya bye

**Author's Note:**

> \- what am i even doing  
> \- yes i know the beatles are overrated but blackbird is a good song shut up  
> \- cuteness will ensue


End file.
